On the go

Work in progress

by Susan Roux

I just returned from visiting my sister and I leave again on Friday to see my college son, who's turning 21. I am "Susan on the go" these days! I'm here. I'm there. I'm everywhere!

Eventually I'll plant my feet back on the ground, but that may not be until the end of April... Spring is here and I've sprung in all directions!

So please bare with me as I trot around. I'll try to stop in as often as I can...

My paintbrushes miss me. My hands ache to hold them. I haven't painted since my last class, Thursday night. At these moments, thank goodness for painting class. Otherwise I probably wouldn't get to paint at all.

Maybe today I'll indulge in some personal, playful painting time. My spirit could use it... (Plus Mike was such a dear and did all the laundry while I was away! Thanks Babe. You're awesome!) It may have created space for some much needed "Susan-time"...

Do you recognize the painting posted? It changes so much with each painting session. The direction I'm going with it, is also changing. The blue patches of underpainting in the foreground look odd and out of place in this photograph, but they really compliment the painting in real life. I've decided to keep them. Its been a challenge, because trees pass all along the front of the building. I'd planned to paint them in. But now if I want to keep the blue patches, I need to abandon that thought. I spent much time last session trying to decide how I would alter my composition mid-stream. That can be a recipe for disaster!

Tonight we continue.

There's a traditional weathervane that rises above the existing pinnacle of the building. I think its important to the composition. It will help set dominance. Warm light will need to find its way into the sky. Currently we have a warm light/cool light situation happening here. Seeing we only have one sun, the same light that drapes itself on the landscape is also present in the sky. It came as an unpleasant surprise to my students when I announced that we would be returning into our sky's...

Luckily the paintings are all dry. Returning to painted areas need not be scary. Any additional strokes, if unwanted, can be easily removed with the magic eraser, mineral spirits! I have no doubt they'll be able to adjust their sky's to the correct light quite easily.

The thought of painting energizes me.

Happy painting all of you wonderful artists! May you find time in your busy lives to nourish your own spirit. As Spring pops and the temperature warms, let yourself flourish with creativity and color.

I sense amazing works will be popping up everywhere...

I didn't mean to...

I lied.

I don't usually, but last night I did. I started this painting with my wonderful Wednesday night ladies. Just before leaving, one chuckled that I would continue working my sky and present a very different look next week. I immediately told her, "No. I never touch a class painting outside of class."

Sorry Tricia, I lied.

In the overly-used words of my son, "I didn't mean to..."

Really, I didn't. Its just this morning the colors were not at all what I remembered from last night. There's a very fine line between softness and no contrast. While attempting to soften my punched colors, I ended up by washing it all out! I really needed to correct it while the paint was wet.

Otherwise, I would have saved my corrections as part of our next lesson...

Unfortunately the camera lies too. Much more than I do, actually. The image posted reflects none of the soft transitions between colors. Isn't that a maddening thing for all artists? We work so hard to adjust every value, every color, every stroke, to capture what's in our hearts. A constant battle to project ourselves on canvas... And from reading many of your posts, it is a battle indeed. (But a battle we sure do love!)

All of this passionate energy, poured out, ends up at the mercy of the camera. Do you know of an artist who was ever pleased with their images? I don't. But there is a very encouraging "nice side" to this dilemma.

There will never be a reproduction that surpasses the actual work.

Our originals will always be in sole possession of that "magic" we captured. All that feeling. All those subtle nuances. All those juicy brushstrokes and thick paint you could lick like frosting. No camera will ever be capable of capturing it all.

And that life. That wonderful "life of its own" an original painting has. The way it reflects light and changes as you walk by it or as the darkness falls upon it. Its not only Thomas Kincade's paintings that change with low light, as he would have the public believing. We all know it affects every work.

So be proud of your accomplishments. Your original works. Nothing will ever compare to the greatness you captured while toiling in front of your easel!